Screw the Screwdriver!
by bubblecandyrock
Summary: The Doctor has always found it infuriating that even in a sticky situation (that's usually Jack's fault), the Captain won't stop flirting. Silly little oneshot featuring Jack as Jack and a flustered Doctor.


**This is one of those stories that almost literally wrote itself. So, I figured I would put it up, even though I don't really write for this pairing. **

The Doctor despised Jack Harkness.

No, that wasn't quite right, the Doctor decided, shaking his head. It was more like he despised Jack Harkness for BEING Jack Harkness, for whatever reason.

Perhaps it was his unfailing sense of duty to bed every species in the known universe. Or his habit of sitting unclothed in the control room of the TARDIS. Or maybe, just maybe, it was his handsome smile that made the butterflies in his stomach reproduce and create vomit-inducing, hybrid baby butterflies (in a good way). He shook his head again. Thoughts off track. What was he supposed to be thinking about?

"Doc," Jack whispered in his ear. "Could you please stop shaking your head and find a way to get us out of this? Not that I mind the close proximity, of course," he said, warm breath hitting the shell of the Doctor's ear and making him clear his throat awkwardly.

Right, on a tiny little platform, about to be thrown into a vat of acid. Jack would eventually rebuild himself if he went in, but for the Doctor it would be game over. Which led to the two pressed up against each other to keep from teetering off the edge. He had to think of a way out. He already had, actually.

It was just so VERY hard to concentrate when THE Captain Jack Harkness was pressed up against you.

"I do believe it was because of you that we are even here," the Doctor said, staring at the acid below. "You just HAD to go flirting with the sacred speaker for the local diety, didn't you?!"

"Calm down, Doc," Jack said, flashing that unfuriating smile. The Doctor tried his hardest to calm the baby hybrid butterflies in his stomach. Perhaps a sonic screwdriver blast would dispose of the little buggers. But that would most likely wreak havoc on his bodily systems, so he didn't. He settled for scowling, and muttering a quiet "stop that" to his stomach. Jack didn't bother to ask. Which was about the one USEFULL quality he had.

"Alright," he said eventually, getting the captain's full attention. "I need my sonic screwdriver. It's in... Actually, I don't remember which pocket I hid it in. Either way, I can't reach. My hands are cuffed behind me."

"Are you insinuating what I think you are, doc?!" Jack sounded a bit TOO excited. The Doctor closed his eyes in dread.

"They didn't restrain you. You're going to have to get it for me," he ground out.

"Oh goody! Let's start with the back pockets!" the Doctor let out an undignified squeak, almost falling off the platform.

"Just find the screwdriver and stop wasting time!" he said, flustered. And no, his voice definitely did NOT have a higher pitch out of pure embarassment. The platform was still lowering towards the bubbling deadly liquid below.

"But this is a golden opportunity!"

"And I'll be a dead man if you don't hurry it up! GET your hands out of there!"

"All right, all right! So demanding~" The Doctor stiffened as he felt hands unbutton his coat. "Calm down, I'm just searching the inner pockets."

Eventually, Jack had searched everywhere. After much patting, and some -uncalled for- squeezing.

"Any luck?" the Doctor asked, trying to see.

"No, it wasn't on you," Jack began. "Oh, but what's this? Doc, looks like it was in MY pocket the whole time! I wonder how that happened?" Yeah, that wasn't fooling anybody.

"Captain Jack Harkness," The Doctor said, obviously infuriated as he snatched his screwdriver away from the gleeful man and pointed it at the automated platform. He then unlocked the cuffs around his wrists.

"Yes, Doctor?" he said, that infuriating hybrid butterfly-inducing grin on his face again. The Doctor turned to face him as the platform reached the top, his face flushed and brow set in a frown.

"Run."

Jack didn't need to be told twice, cackling the whole journey back to the TARDIS. Somehow, an embarassed Doctor was much more threatening than a mob of villagers out for their blood.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
